Ketchup Stains
by ColeSodaPop
Summary: Fail title. A ten dollar bill, a undesired lover and a feathery weapon all come into play one evening at Johnny's home. First there's Jimmy and Tunny, who can't seem to sit in the same room-or on the same sofa-without fighting. Then there's Johnny...


**Author's Note: Hey, everyone! Heh, Cole here, bringing you another awkward one-shot in the AI universe. XD Anyway, a guy I know at school just let me borrow a freaking _ton_ of his Green Day CDs, and I just had to celebrate with a fanfic. (: Just be warned: this one doesn't seem to make too much sense, and the ending sucks. While writing it, I kind of went, "What the heck is this crud?" Oh, well.**

**Disclaimer: Okay, you know the drill—hands behind your back! Just kidding. I don't own American Idiot. Never have, never will.**

"Man," muttered Jimmy, "what is that?"

"What's...what?" replied Tunny quietly, reaching from where he sat on Johnny's sagging couch to take hold of the knob on the nearby stereo and turn down the rock music blaring almost painfully throughout his friend's home.

Jimmy, a convincing actor should the mood strike him, furrowed his eyebrows and frowned as if confused. His gaze was directed down at his open palm. "That right there," he answered, cocking his head to the side. "Whoa."

Tunny, always curious and not having his usual guard up around Jimmy today, leaned over to where Jimmy sat on the other end of the sofa. His face was eventually an inch or two above the other teen's hand. "What? I don't see anything." He shrugged.

The popping noise that followed was impressively loud, caused by a strangely calm-looking Jimmy as his open hand connected with Tunny's face. Tunny jerked back immediately, his own hand gently touching the assaulted area. "Jerk," he snapped, glowering at Jimmy, who only made an attempt to stop the twitching of his lips—he was trying not to smile.

The few times that Jimmy and Tunny had made physical contact since Jimmy and Johnny had began a supposed "friendship" a few months ago, it had always been one of three things. A, a punch. B, a shove. Or C, a kick, which could only be done perhaps under a table where Johnny couldn't see. The only times Will and Tunny were ever around Jimmy was when Johnny brought the guy about. They still didn't like him, but they were far past complaining by now. Jimmy, whether temporarily or permanently, was currently in the picture.

Still, even if that was the case, this was one photo album that should have been left alone.

At the moment, the two on the couch were in Johnny and his mother's home. Johnny himself was upstairs, and had been for the last fifteen minutes getting ready to go with his two friends (Will had come down with something that his mother had described as "pretty nasty") to hang out. His mother had left the previous evening and hadn't showed up since. Johnny? Well, he wasn't concerned. At two o' clock just this morning, she'd called home from a phone booth and explained that she was with her boyfriend.

Johnny was currently checking every nook and cranny of his bedroom at the moment, looking for the ten dollar bill he'd acquired from said boyfriend. He remembered crumpling it up and throwing it somewhere in this room after spitting to the man that he wasn't a charity case, but that was about it. Oddly enough, he actually needed it now. Johnny, on his stomach as he poked his head under his creaky mattress, scowled. Great. He had to use the scumbag's money.

Hopefully Jimmy and Tunny were alright in the living room. They hadn't been too hostile to each other in his presence lately, and he took that as a good enough sign. Besides, they couldn't do anything to each other in fifteen minutes that would be worth a duel to the death. Johnny was on his feet again when he spotted a bit of green sticking out from under a ketchup-stained shirt in his overflowing laundry hamper. Hm. He must've thrown the garment right on top of the bill.

Without further hesitation, Johnny lifted the shirt and grabbed the balled-up note, shaking it out. It was worn and faded, but money all the same. Money he'd soon be wasting on something pointless—probably another batch of French fries to stain his shirt with. Johnny stuffed the ten in his pocket and ambled out of his bedroom, clomping down the stairs and into the living room.

"I—guys?" Johnny looked alarmed. On the couch, Jimmy happened to be sitting on a pillow, a victorious expression painted across his pale, eyeliner-touched face. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that the pillow, in turn, was on top of Tunny's face. To put it simply, Tunny was flailing on the couch cushions, and Jimmy was pretty much smothering him by putting the entire weight of his body on top of his feather-filled weapon.

"Jimmy!" Johnny at least had the good sense to push Jimmy off of his friend. Jimmy chuckled darkly as he watched Johnny take the pillow away.

"I was just scaring him," Jimmy explained. "If I wanted to kill your little buddy, he'd be dead by now." Jimmy shrugged his thin shoulders. Johnny just shook his head and ignored him, helping Tunny into an upright position.

Tunny snarled at Jimmy, "You bast—"

_Click_. The doorknob caused a silence. "It's my mom and probably her boyfriend," whispered Johnny. "C'mon, back door. I'm not supposed to have friends over that she doesn't know." The last part was obviously aimed at Jimmy, and Tunny looked happy about it.

"That all?" Jimmy asked skeptically.

"And her boyfriend's a buttwipe, and I don't wanna see his face, so what? Now move it, I can hear them now."

All three slipped away just as the pair of adults entered the house. "Jonathan!" crowed Johnny's mother, a cigarette perched between her lips. The red lipstick was smudged, as was her mascara. She wore a completely different outfit from the one she'd been clad in when she'd left. Heaven knew where she and the man behind her had been.

She took the lack of response—just the lonely echo of her own voice—as her son being asleep, even though it was almost five in the afternoon. She clicked into the house in her tall red heels, slipping immediately on the floorboards and caught by her boyfriend.

"Shh. Let's get outta here," muttered Johnny. He, Jimmy and Tunny were crouched in hiding by the back door down the hall from the front door. While the two adults laughed, the three of them opened the back door, left and rounded to the side of the house, where Jimmy's car was parked. They hopped in and began heading to the previously chosen destination.

"'Buttwipe'?" Jimmy couldn't help but comment now, hands on the steering wheel. "What are you, Johnny, ten?" Tunny hit Jimmy's arm for the remark. Jimmy responded with a quick hit to the other boy's face. Johnny sighed. This time, he only settled back and watched the fight turn verbal. It was kind of entertaining.

Still, when he reached into his pocket to check the ten dollar bill again, he was reminded of the man that he hated with a passion. But when Johnny pulled his hand out again, he honestly couldn't help but smile. A bit of ketchup on his fingers had gone unnoticed. Johnny laughed to himself as he wiped it on his jeans, but Tunny and Jimmy took no heed as they argued in the front of the car.


End file.
